Victory Is So Sweet
by EloraVashara
Summary: Optimus hasn't allowed a party on base for some time, but Starscream has other ideas about that, and he knows the perfect way to get Optimus' signature on that request form... Bayverse AU, mild OP/SS slash.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing here but the plot (not that there really is one) and I don't own Transformers. Unfortunately.

**PLEASE READ, IF NOT YOU WILL BE CONFUSED. **Author's Note: So, this is my own little Bayverse AU, set sometime in the future when lots more bots have arrived and their appearances are far more similar to their G1 counterparts. Also, they have faces like in G1. In this AU, Starscream DID start out looking like that hideous thing Bay approved. As a devious science experiment, Megatron helped Starscream and the Constructicons build a new type of flyer body that is smaller and sleeker than the current seekers. Also waaaay more attractive (e.g. it resembles his G1 self Bayverse-ized). Starscream ends up being the unwilling first test subject for the body, and his spark is transplanted into the new body. I know, this is all complicated. Anyways, furious at Megatron, he flees to the Autobots for shelter, which they give him. This snippet is set sometime a ways into that future, where Starscream has, apparently, made some friends. Hope you enjoy!

**Victory is so sweet…for some**

By Elora Vashara

It wasn't that he had suddenly developed a keen interest in the Autobot leader, oh, no. It was just that…well, this new body of his was very trim and attractive, and perhaps its interface drive was a bit more vivacious than his previous body's had been. And perhaps, in light of the situation, the handsome red and blue mech was looking quite acceptable as a berth-mate. And quite delectable. And he had the mech—how did the humans say it? Hook, line, and sinker—as he watched the line of sight from those cerulean optics drift across his form. From his perch on the desk corner, legs crossed, he delicately slid the tip of one thruster up the length of his other leg, stopping at the knee and sliding it back down slowly. He arched his back in a slow stretch that showed off his sleek chassis and really showcased his slim wings as they flared out behind him, the red and silver-white paint glittering in the light.

Following that move (which had done its job and spiked Optimus' core temperature considerably) he absently rolled his cherry-red hips, lightly grinding his aft against the table, almost as if he were just adjusting his position. His helm tilted back, exposing the slender wires and cables running down his neck and, making sure he had the mech's gaze where he wanted it, he slowly slipped the tip of his glossa out to run along his lips, finishing the movement with a small, innocent smile. His prey was totally vulnerable now.

"Optimus?" He purred lowly, making sure his crimson optics were practically smoldering with need (which honestly wasn't hard).

"Aaaah?" Was the slightly slack-jawed response. In order to keep him that way (too much talking would revive his processor and the whole thing would be a bust) Starscream slowly settled one servo on his raised knee, glancing down semi-thoughtfully with a small pout as he slowly dragged a single digit up his thigh.

"Would you mind, terribly, if we were to have a party? Say, something arranged by the twins?" He continued his finger's path up his chassis, delicately coming to rest at the top of his cockpit. "That would be nice, hmm?" He seemed to find something on the tip of his finger, and with a moment's pause for effect he slid the finger into his mouth, glancing sideways at the nearly non-functioning Prime.

"Party…nice…hmmm…ahhh…" Optimus was helpless in the seeker's grasp, his core temperature spiking even higher at the stimulating image before him.

Swiftly popping the finger out of his mouth, Starscream slid a datapad towards Optimus, making sure to turn and slide his upper body across too, giving the Prime a rather nice view to observe, which he took advantage of. On the datapad was a formal request that, when signed by Optimus, would give the twins (and Starscream) authority to make arrangements for a grand party on base. All the details of supplies and what would be allowed were included. However, Starscream was fairly certain that Optimus' processors weren't capable of reading at the moment.

He kicked his pedes up behind him, waving them in the air and arching his back and legs so that his aft stuck up at a rather nice angle. He made sure to wiggle it a bit. He settled a full-on sexy pout on his face and went for the kill.

"It's such a shame, I can't have my nice party unless you give your consent, right here, Optimus." Optimus was still ogling him, so he decided to help him out a bit. He reached out a servo and gently trailed his fingers down Optimus' face, making a line to the datapad on the desk. He pointed at the box where Optimus' signature was needed.

"Right…_there_…Optimus." Came his breathy whisper, and all his efforts were rewarded when Optimus (seemingly by reflex) saw the box and entered his signature. He slipped the datapad into his subspace and rewarded Optimus with warm smile.

"Perfect, darling," he murmured, "as always, you're too kind." He pressed the tip of one of his fingers to his lips and kissed it, then pressed it gently to the Prime's lips.

"See you around, Optimus," he purred, before sliding gracefully off the desk and vanishing out the door, leaving a slack-faced Prime wondering what had just happened.

Just around the corner, a gold mech and a cherry red one were leaning against the wall, waiting for their partner. Starscream practically strutted around the corner, producing the signed datapad from his subspace with a flourish.

"Ha! See? I told you I could do anything." He grinned as the excited twins grabbed for the datapad.

"Tch, yeah, _do_ anything." Sunstreaker snorted, artfully maneuvering the pad out of his brother's grasp and examining the signature for himself.

"Ha! Yeah! More like do _anybot_, Screamer." Sideswipe chuckled and peered over his brother's shoulder while Starscream huffed in annoyance.

"Hey, just because I'm the most attractive bot here doesn't mean you two can say stuff like that about me…!"

The trio continued bickering as they walked down the hall, eventually turning to planning the party. Optimus was discovered some time later, forehead resting on his desk while he muttered something about Primus-damned sexy seekers being too devious for their own good. Prowl decided not to ask.

~Fin~


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author's Note: Did you read the Author's note in part 1? No? Are you confused? Go read it! If not, please continue, and I hope you enjoy!

Victory Is So Sweet…For Some

Part the Second

By Elora Vashara

Optimus sighted down the range, deftly firing his guns in succession to shoot down the moving holo-targtets. He was aware of someone watching him, and when he'd finished the round he turned to see who it was. Starscream was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and hip thrust out. His gaze, which was normally quite focused, seemed a bit…less so, at the moment.

"Ah, Starscream, you came," he rumbled by way of greeting. This seemed to snap the seeker out of his daze, and he straightened before ambling a bit closer.

"Yes, I'm here. You asked for me, so I assume you need me to do something…?" Optimus grinned, and Starscream's optics lost a bit of their normal sharpness.

"Why would you assume that? What if I don't need you to do anything, and I just wanted to see you?" He shifted closer, observing that Starscream looked delectable even when he wasn't trying. Perhaps even more so, as his helm tilted back slightly so he could still meet Optimus' optics, his neck became more vulnerable to any future assault of the pleasurable nature and his full lips parted slightly, just begging to be kissed.

"Ah…that would be…nice? I don't…what were you saying?" Starscream valiantly tried to shake off his current Optimus-induced haze but was unsuccessful as a blue hand crept up to make a lazy sweep up the edge of one of his wings. Caught up in his sudden urge to kiss Optimus, he leaned forward on the tips of his pedes but was met with empty air and a strong arm gently encircling his waist from behind.

"Now, now," Optimus breathed into one audio, "don't want to rush things, eh?" he took advantage of his position by exploring both of Starscream's wings thoroughly with feather-light touches meant to drive the seeker to complete distraction. It was working, as evidenced by the throaty moan he received for his attentions.

"Mmm," he began, causing the seeker's intakes to hitch at the rich sound's proximity, "now that I think of it, there is something you could do for me…would you?" He punctuated his question by running the top of each wing between his thumb and forefinger in a quick sweep, casing Starscream's knees to nearly give out as the seeker gasped in pleasure.

"Ah…ah…a-anything, Optimus. Wha…what do you need?" He shuddered as the feather-light touches returned, forcing any coherent thought from his processor.

"Do you swear to do it, no matter what it is?" He paused in his ministrations, merely giving Starscream the opportunity to miss his touch.

"I swear! Just, ooooh, _Primus_…" Starscream moaned as the caresses began again with renewed vigor, waves of pleasure at the contact sweeping through him.

"Just a small favor," Optimus whispered, giving more attention to the spots that elicited particularly breathy gasps and deep moans. "Would you do weekly training with the Aerialbots, for me, Starscream?"

"Ah, ah…" Starscream hesitated in his reply, earning a quick stroke from Optimus' warm glossa up the edge of his wing, almost reaching to the point, but not quite. He nearly whimpered at the loss of the anticipated sensation.

"Please?" Optimus murmured, back by Starscream's audio once more. His fingers repeated the action his glossa had taken, reinforcing his point.

"I—yes, I will…aaahhh…" He shuddered as a warm mouth moved over the very tip of his wing, glossa stroking the sensitive metal. Then, just as suddenly as the contact had begun, it vanished, and Prime with it. All he was left with was the echo of Optimus' "Thanks!" as he strode off. Starscream backed up and leaned heavily against the cool metal wall, sliding down slowly, optics off.

Optimus was exceptionally cheerful for the rest of the day, and was even caught humming once or twice as he read over requests and reports. Starscream was found in that same position sometime later, occasionally muttering about how Primes weren't supposed to be that attractive, much less sneaky about their revenge. Ironhide, unsure of how to deal with a moody seeker, decided to forego his afternoon target practice, just to be on the safe side.

~Fin~


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Still don't own them…*sigh*

Author's note: Hey! Thank you all for the reviews, they make me grin so much my face hurts (and that's a good thing, really)! I reply to every review I can to say thanks, but since I can't say thanks to anonymous reviews personally, I'll say it here: Thank you so much!

Okay, the chapter starts out with a flashback, but it's not a super long one or anything, so bear with it, please! Also, I should mention warnings for angst and a possible tissue warning (idk, I was tearing up a bit, but I never know about other people). I really didn't mean for the chapter to get this angsty, but it kinda did before I realized it. Also, hey! It's longer than 1000 words! Hooray! Hope you enjoy reading, and please review if you have a minute, if only to say whether or not you hated it.

Victory Is So Sweet…For Some

Part the third

By Elora Vashara

_{Flashback}_

"_Is it finished?"_

_Starscream didn't reply for a moment as he reviewed the last numbers. Everything was operating in the optimum ranges, and the last panel had been closed. All that remained missing was a single, living spark to inhabit the still empty spark chamber that rested beneath the gleaming glass of the cockpit. The form was a dull gray, still, and it would not take on color until it had a soul inside. He glanced up at Megatron._

"_It is finished, yes."_

"_Good. Then all we need is a spark. Tell me, Starscream, what do you know about spark transplants?" The harsh red optics narrowed in scrutiny of his SIC as the seeker formulated his answer._

"_I know, mighty Megatron, that very little research was put into the matter before the war started, and that in every illegal operation performed, the spark being transplanted was extinguished upon or shortly after its removal from the original body. There was never any measure of success in the method. I had assumed you intended to place a new spark in this frame, not an already existing one."_

"_Perhaps," Megatron began, shifting his weight and stepping ever closer to an uneasy Starscream as he spoke, "they just weren't strong enough. Your spark, however, has a rather annoying habit of sticking around. And, if you are indeed proven right and your spark extinguishes, then the operation shall be a success anyways…" He stood just behind the seeker now, one clawed hand resting ominously on each shoulder. _

"_Too much of a coward to try it yourself?" Starscream retorted, jerking out the tyrant's grasp. "Tch. Typical of you to send me off for something like this. If I'm not as strong as you, as you're always claiming, then why don't you do it yourself? Surely a spark that has beat as long as yours would continue to beat once outside your frame." He sneered at his commander, while in the back of his processor he desperately tried to figure a way out of this. When did Megatron plan to do this? Probably right now—the tyrant knew he'd try anything to get out of it, so he'd waited until the last possible moment. Slag, how would he get out of this one? As he'd been slowly backing toward the doorway he had failed to notice the arrival of Hook, the Decepticon medic. So when he realized that Megatron had, uncharacteristically, remained silent at his jab and instead was looking past him, he spun around. With the seeker blocking Hook from Megatron's view, the constructicon dared to mouth the words "I'm sorry," before a needle slid into one of Starscream's lines and everything fell dark. _

Starscream paced the length of his quarters that evening, his processor racing so quickly he doubted even Soundwave would have been able to follow his train of thought. What, in Primus' name, had happened earlier? To sum it up, he'd gone a bit…googley-optic'd at Optimus earlier, and the Autobot leader had nicely (oh, _so_ nicely) gotten him to agree to train those glitched Aerialbots. The Prime, who he had once suspected didn't have a single devious strand of coding, had just pulled his _own_ trick on him. It stung a little that he had fallen for it, but it was hard to stay annoyed when it had felt so right.

He had been frustrated to the extreme when Optimus had left him there, though to be fair he supposed the mech really hadn't know just how close he was to overloading just then. The build-up of energy trapped in his systems had surged about frantically for some time as he'd tried to cool down, finally resorting to siphoning what he could to his null rays and blasting anything in sight down the range. But still he was left with that niggling feeling deep in his spark, craving the release his circuits (and every other part of him) had been expecting. What surprised him now was the deep emotional ache he was left with, conflicting urges shouting at him to simultaneously punch Optimus and frag him senseless, while a smaller urge told him to curl up on his berth and sob like there was no tomorrow.

Like a true scientist, he did his best to step away from the situation and analyze it piece by piece. Optimus had called him down to the practice range. On his own assumption (which had been proven correct) that Optimus wanted something, the mech had instead broached the possibility of simply wanting his company. Involuntarily, his spark gave a little lurch, and he frowned and quieted it. No one he'd known had ever really wanted him just for _him_, besides his creators, and he supposed that was what hurt. Optimus, a mech he now respected and was at least somewhat attracted to, had done something that reminded him starkly of Megatron.

He had dangled the sweetest possibility (though with Megatron it had been appreciation of his ideas and input he'd sought, not…very strong liking. He didn't want to call it love yet.) just out of Starscream's reach, offered it, promised it, nearly, then retracted it. Instead, his whole reason for that…interlude, was to get Starscream to do something. He'd used Starscream's attraction to soften him up, then thrust an unpleasant new job into his servos, and _then_ the slagger had just walked away, leaving him trembling for reasons other than fear and pain.

Starscream could distance himself no longer, and with his new realization the force of his emotions slammed into him like a wall. A choked sob escaped his vocalizer and his frame trembled as his spark twisted in agony. He _hurt_, but this time it was not merely a physical pain that could be cured with new plating and some welds. His spark was pulsing erratically, wrenching with greater force as each new sob broke free. He staggered to his berth and collapsed weakly, some part of his processor dimly registering that his spark was, in fact, hurting quite physically and flickering dangerously. Ratchet had warned him to try and stay level, emotionally, as his spark was still weakened from being transplanted. It would still be a few more years before it was back to full strength. He struggled to open a comm line to call for help, but his optics went dim as his body shut down automatically, and his last sob cut out halfway through, the room falling into grim silence.

Optimus always made it a point to walk down the personnel quarters corridor before retiring himself. It was his way of checking on his troops and friends, and there had been several occasions where he had been able to help one mech or another out by talking to them or consoling them or just listening to them. So when he heard the faint sounds of one mech sobbing, he followed the sounds until he reached Starscream's room. Guilt plagued him immediately. He had no doubt that he was the cause of the frantic crying from the seeker, but indecision gripped him.

He was sure it would be better for him to go in now and apologize profusely, take whatever the seeker hurled at him (he certainly deserved it, he thought guiltily) and make sure it never happened again. On the other servo, that took a great deal of courage, and while Optimus was not one to ever be short on courage, he held a certain amount of fear towards the eventual outcome of that scenario. If he was lucky, Starscream might forgive him (years and years from now) and they might someday be on semi-civil speaking terms. At worst, though, he feared Starscream flying away from him forever, maybe even returning to the Decepticons. After all, Optimus had just shown how capable he was of manipulation. Clearly he hadn't thought it through. He'd just wanted to give the seeker a taste of his own medicine, (and get a taste of the seeker) but he'd gone about it the wrong way entirely, and he certainly hadn't taken Starscream's emotional stability into account.

Bracing himself, he prepared to enter when the sobs suddenly cut out. He hesitated, straining his audios to try and detect any movement or other noises. There was only the sudden and deep silence, like the room was empty. Worry overcame his other emotions and he slid the door open swiftly, optics scanning the room before centering on the prone form of one seeker. Something was wrong. He rushed to the seeker's side, alarmed to find the vibrant colors of the Starscream's paint fading slowly, and the most he could find on his scanners was an extremely weak spark signal. He sent an emergency signal to Ratchet, praying that they weren't too late. He laid one servo over the faintly flickering sparkchamber, wishing there was some way for him to physically hold on to Starscream's life force.

"I'm so sorry, Starscream," he murmured, and then Ratchet was there, pushing him out of the way and shouting instructions to First Aid as they tried to revive his spark, hooking up power generators to Starscream's main systems to take the strain off his spark, sending bursts of energy at regular intervals to try and coax the spark into beating again. Nothing they were trying seemed to be working, and Optimus staggered back to sit heavily on the couch. He felt awful. He was the worst kind of scum there had to be. He'd known Starscream's spark was still somewhat delicate, he'd _known_ (at least in hindsight) that what he'd done had great potential to hurt Starscream, so somewhere, in his subconscious, he must have _known_ that this was a possible outcome, and yet he'd blindly gone through with it. For a few moments, he had a very deep appreciation for Prowl's love of analyzing every situation from every possible angle before taking action.

Ratchet and First Aid were still working, trying to keep the tiny light alive and pulsing.

It was black. That much he could comprehend at the moment. He wasn't sure where he was, entirely, but as his most recent memories trickled in he surmised he was unconscious, possibly on the verge of offlining, and this was his processor's way of keeping him from the trauma of actually offlining. To be frank, it had not gotten any more interesting in the time since his last involuntary venture here, though he supposed its function was not to be interesting, it was merely to provide an intermediate place for his mind to rest between death and life.

Starscream was startled by the sudden occurrence of a noise, and he turned to see semi-lit hazy shapes forming out of the back mist. It was his carrier's face, he realized with a start. He was smiling, though there were lines of worry and pain etched deeply into the expression. It was the moment his carrier had died, shortly after the death of his other creator. He'd only been a sparkling at the time, and they had lived in the politically turbulent Vos. Their deaths had been the result of a riot that they hadn't even participated in.

The memory grasped him vividly, and he could almost feel the weakening grip around his waist, feel the rough metal beneath his slender knees, the familiar warmth and protection of his parent slipping away, the bond they shared threatening to break at any moment.

"Starscream," came that warm, soothing voice, which managed to stay nearly even, as though this were merely an important talk, not a goodbye.

"Papa…" Starscream echoed his younger self, reaching out to touch his carrier's face in his memory.

"Starscream, I want you to listen to me very carefully now. Are you listening?" The blue and white seeker shifted slightly, a faint grimace appearing at the movement.

"Yes, papa, I'm listening." Sparkling-Starscream leaned forward to touch a tiny blue finger to his carrier's faceplates, a small sob building.

"I love you, very much, and so does your daddy, okay? We both love you, so much, sweetspark, but we have to go now. I want you to be careful."

Starscream nodded along with his memory counterpart, echoing his next words, "I love you too, papa, I love you too, it hurts!" The seekerlet sobbed, tiny servos grasping one much larger blue one as if to keep his parent from slipping away.

"Shhh, sweetspark, I know it hurts, and I'm sorry. I want you to be good for me and your daddy, okay? Be good, grow up into a mech we can be proud of. You can do great things, honey, if you put your mind to it."

The little Starscream tried to put on a brave face, whimpering a small, "I will!" before breaking down into sobs again. A servo drifted up to gently stroke the seekerlet's helm and rubbed his back struts, soothing the cries temporarily.

"Someday, Starscream, you'll find someone who loves you as much your daddy loves me," the dying mech whispered, "and I hope you love him back just as much. Someday, you'll meet your sparkmate, and you'll know. And maybe both of you will do things you'll regret, but sparkmates are meant to be together. The pull will always be there, and the more you try to resist, the harder it gets."

The relationship advice was a little beyond Starscream at that age, but he could certainly appreciate it now. He leaned closer, vents hitching as he realized the last moments were fast approaching.

"I wish you every happiness, my little Star, I…" the mech coughed roughly, back-flooding energon leaking out from between his lips. "I love you…" The blue optics fell dark, and with them, the carrier-sparkling bond. Starscream sobbed loudly as waves of pain wracked his young frame, and he curled instinctively next to his carrier's graying frame.

The mists that had formed the vivid memory slowly faded out, leaving Starscream to ponder his subconscious' choice of memories. The pain of the moment still lingered, but it had been long ago, and time had dulled its current effects. It had been one he must have blocked out at that age, for he could not recall it. He had recalled, as a sparkling, that they had died, and he was certainly traumatized, but everything had seemed hazy then, a huge commotion followed by deep pain and despair. Was his subconscious trying to tell him something with this particular memory?

_Good timing_, he thought sourly. There was some important realization waiting there for him, and his processor decided to wait until he was at death's door to spring it on him. After sulking for a moment, he concluded that he may as well use this time to try and figure out what the message could have been.

~Fin~

Author's note 2.0: Sorry for the cliffhanger! And this was really not supposed to be angsty. Oh well. I'll lighten it up as soon as the current plot allows, I guess. Darn you two for wanting to go all angst-a-rific on me! Cookies and love for everyone who reviews, and love to all you silent readers out there!

P.S.—Just to save any confusion, I'm changing the status to In-Progress, though I will still end each chapter with ~Fin~. That's just how I end my chapters, sorry if it was confusing anybody!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Don't own, and there is no way I'm making money off this. Really!

Author's note: Hey there! Sorry it's taken me so long to update this time—RL walked in and KO'd me, and I'm trying to get back into the swing of things with school starting up and everything. Thank you to everyone who reviewed! (and faved and alerted!) For those few people I didn't reply to: Sorry! I lost the e-mails somehow, before I could reply… Anyways, LESS ANGST YAY! Only a little bit in the beginning, pretty much. Not totally happy with parts of this chapter, but I've spent long enough fiddling around with it, so I figured I'd go ahead and post it. Review if you have a second, and I hope you enjoy!

Victory Is So Sweet…For Some

Part the fourth

By Elora Vashara

Optimus sank onto his own berth with a groan. He'd been up most of the night waiting tensely for Ratchet to come out with any news on Starscream's condition. They'd managed to stabilize the distressed spark enough to get him to the med bay, and Optimus had followed, feeling reluctant to face the medic's wrath when he found out who had caused this, though he suspected the gruff mech already knew, given the glares he'd been tossed. After an eternity, Ratchet had come out briefly to inform him that Starscream was fully stabilized and recovering, then curtly ordered him to leave. Optimus had whispered a spark-felt "Thank you" before exiting.

Now, with only a few hours to recharge before his usual waking time, he lay wide-awake, unable to shut down after the tumultuous series of events. That was how he remained for the rest of the night, passing the time by trying to shut out his thoughts and count the seconds. Minutes before his internal chronometer would have beeped to rouse him, his comm link flashed an incoming signal.

/Yes?/ He answered, trying to sound less tired than he was.

/Starscream wants to see you./ Optimus sat up quickly, realizing just then that it was Ratchet speaking.

/He does?/ Undoubtedly the seeker wanted to chew him out. His spark sank a little at the thought.

/Yes, Primus knows why, though. I've never seen a couple of mechs meant for each other like you two mess things up so quickly. And I swear to Primus, if you hurt him again I'll disassemble you so fast…/ Ratchet let the (nearly) empty threat hang there.

/Right, right,/ Optimus interjected hastily, /I'll be right over./ Meant for each other? That was a new one.

Optimus stepped into the med bay quietly, and with a small huff Ratchet strode out, leaving them with some privacy.

"Starscream," Optimus began, striding over to the berth where said seeker was resting. "Star, I am so sorry, I should've known better, and it was awful for me to do that to you, and I don't expect you to forgive me—"

"You're not Megatron," Starscream rasped lowly, cutting off the long-winded apology.

Optimus shuttered his optics briefly.

"Well, that's…good to…know?" He gazed curiously at the still-recovering mech before him, his servos resting lightly on the edge of the berth. He had expected cursing and screaming, or tears and silent rage, or _something_, but he hadn't expected dimly glowing crimson optics to simply observe him. It was a bit unnerving, so if that was Starscream's goal, he was succeeding.

"Not literally, bolts for brains, I mean that one fairly Decepticon-like act does not make you into your worst enemy—don't even try to pretend that's _not_ what you were thinking—and…and I suppose I can forgive you for it. This time. But it is never, _ever_ going to happen again, clear?" He narrowed his optics into a glare that might've melted a lesser mech. The worry and guilt piling itself into Optimus' voice was clear enough proof for him that the mech truly hadn't meant to hurt him, and reinforced the conclusion he'd drawn while unconscious.

"Crystal." Optimus didn't dare to say anything else, not wanting to break the fragile truce forming between them once more. He felt like they were back to square one of their friendship, except they knew each other this time around.

"Good," Starscream murmured, "now, you do realize I'm going to hold you to finishing what you started yesterday, right?" The corner of his mouth quirked at the shocked expression he received.

"Buh—I thought—you were mad?" While his processors were stuck trying to interpret Starscream's words, his spark had already picked up the general sentiment of them and was doing a good impression of a supernova.

"Well, I'm still a bit upset, yes. You'll just have to make it up to me." He smiled and arched one brow, still waiting for an intelligent response. A guilty and apologetic Optimus was an easily manipulated one.

Optimus sighed, his expression melting into one of slightly exasperated affection as he reached out to cradle the seeker's face with one servo.

"Anything for you," he whispered, their optics locking.

"So…" Starscream began uncertainly, "Where does this leave us?"

"Where do you want this to leave us?" Optimus asked in reply, wishing he had a better sense of how the elegant seeker before him felt about these things.

"Not fair!" Starscream chuckled, "I asked first. Where do you want this to go, if…if you want it to go anywhere at all?"

Optimus grinned hopefully. "I was hoping _this_ could go to a nice secluded beach somewhere for dinner and a night out, once you're well."

"That would be nice. What about after that?"

"I'll leave that up to you, but I think dinner together every night would be…" Wonderful, amazing, incredible, everything he could hope for? "Perfect."

"Mmm, I think so too." He gently tugged the Prime down to his level and was about to touch those kissable lips with his own when they were rather rudely interrupted by the generally grumpy medic. Optimus planted a chaste kiss on the top of Starscream's helm and promised he'd visit later as Ratchet shooed him out the door.

Two seekers, weary from their arduous journey, landed at the entrance to the Decepticon base on the moon. The slightly taller of the two was a rich blue that allowed him to blend in with the clear blue skies of the nearby planet. He was lean and long in frame and moved with a silent determination that lent him grace, his mouth slanted towards more of a neutral frown than anything else. His companion was something like his opposite. The bouncy seeker was mostly a gleaming black with generous splashes of purple adorning his smaller, more curvaceous—but still strong—frame. A nearly ever-present smile lingered on his lips, dimmed now only by exhaustion. A short hail to the guard inside opened the doors for them, and they strode through the familiar—if somewhat ruined—halls to the control room.

_::Do you think Screamer is here, TC? I…I still can't feel him here. You don't think he's…?::_

_::I don't know what to think, 'Warp. Maybe Megatron finally got tired of him. Maybe he's on the other side of the galaxy. We don't know, and it won't help us to guess. We've been a long time getting here but we've got good news; Let me do the talking and don't interrupt, and maybe we'll get through this mostly unscathed.::_

_::Wow, feeling talkative today, huh? I guess you're right. And don't worry so much, I bet ol' Megs will be glad to see us! We _are_ two-thirds of the elite trine after all.::_

The two entered the control room and came to stand at attention before their leader, snapping up sharp salutes.

"Megatron, sir, Thundercracker and Skywarp reporting for duty, sir!" The blue seeker barked out, his crimson optics wandering up to meet those of his commander. The huge silver tyrant smiled, though honestly it was more like he was baring his denta in a fierce growl.

"Excellent. Report?"

"There are no lingering Autobot forces in the outer arms, sir. They pulled out all their forces and went into hiding. The Decepticon army holds the region quite firmly, sir." Thundercracker still stood rigidly at attention while he gave his report, but Skywarp had dropped the salute and the stance and was now inspecting the tips of his fingers while he casually rested his weight on one leg. His head bobbed ever so slightly to a tune he had looping in his processors.

"Good work, Thundercracker, you've done well." His gaze lingered on the inattentive form of Skywarp but he didn't bother with a reprimand. The idiot soldier was loyal and followed his orders without question, though his attention span was severely lacking. "You both have the rest of this cycle off, and you'll start on the duty roster tomorrow. You may leave."

"Ah, sir, if I may ask…"

"You wish to know the whereabouts of your commander Starscream, yes? He's gone. I had his frame melted down for scrap several of this planet's orbital cycles ago. I must say, things have been running exceptionally smooth since then." Megatron smirked as he leaned back in his throne, observing the shocked expression that flitted over the blue seeker's face before he regained some semblance of composure.

"Ah, thank you, Lord Megatron." Thundercracker bowed, then elbowed the still oblivious Skywarp. The black and purple seeker jumped in surprise then grinned at the expectant tyrant. "Thanks Megatron, good to be back!" He bobbed his head briefly then grabbed Thundercracker's arm and warped them out of the control room.

Starscream was sick of the med bay. Ratchet had kept him there for the past three Earth days and nights to monitor his condition, but the seeker felt fine. Never better, in fact. So as soon as the medic left him unattended he slid off the hard medical berth and crept out the rear exit of the med bay. He felt like he was going crazy, his wings were practically itching and all he could think about was how nice it would be to soar high into the atmosphere and feel his wings slicing through the icy clouds. With that goal in mind, he sneaked down the corridors with ease, his pedes hardly making a sound and his systems running silent. Thankfully, it was just past midday and most mechs were either in the rec room for an energon break or still working in their offices. He made it through without catching attention and finally strolled out of the base, engine practically purring at the fresh air filling his intakes and the warmth of the California sunshine on his plating.

With a small leap and a boost from his thrusters he was airborne, shifting into his alt mode with practiced ease. The sensation of the smooth air caressing his wingtips made him giddy with delight and the heady rush of forbidden freedom left him cackling as he flew in loops and corkscrews, climbing ever higher. Eventually his exultation waned and he set a high-altitude course away from the base. He needed a little time to himself, not to think, just to _be_. It was at times like this that he missed his trine-mates. He felt so alone in the sky, no one flanking him, no one always within range for backup and support. Their trine-bond had been broken when his spark had been transplanted, he was fairly sure of that. He'd felt for it many times out of reflex but encountered only an empty space where once the soothing calm of Thundercracker and the uplifting exuberance of Skywarp had helped stabilize him. Perhaps it had been best that they were far away when the break occurred. The bond had still been there, but he could not actively sense their presence at the time. He wondered if they were back from their mission yet.

Starscream let out a growl of frustration at himself. They had been close out of necessity through the bond and their place as the elite trine, but he had never treated them with the kindness they had always shown him. He regretted that now that he knew what good a bit of kindness could do for others. Living with the Autobots for so long had either made him soft or made him a better mech, and seeing as how he was still just as deadly now as he had been before he decided on the latter option. The sleek jet resolved to try and make up for his past behavior towards them if they met again. He checked his instruments and realized he was something like halfway across the continental United States, so he executed a flawless Immelman and set course for the base. Ratchet would probably yell and throw a wrench or two at him on his return, but it was a small price to pay. The long flight had done wonders for his mood, and his spark felt much lighter now.

Skywarp and Thundercracker soared across the middle of the western coastline of the landmass known as "North America," heading inland. The organic planet fascinated Thundercracker, and as he perused what the planet's inhabitants called the "World Wide Web" his respect for them grew. For such small, weak organisms they had a varied and bloody history, and an ever-increasing thirst for knowledge and technology that pushed them to keep advancing their culture. The human nation they flew over now was known as the USA, and from what he could tell it was fast becoming a sort of melting pot comprised of many other cultures and peoples from the far reaches of this planet. He was glad now that Skywarp had insisted that they explore this planet a little before retiring for some much-needed recharge.

He still found it hard to believe that Starscream was really gone after all these vorns. Skywarp was still hurting from the news, he could feel it, but his bondmate was doing his best to stay chipper and distract himself while their new situation sank in. They were no longer part of a trine, they were just a pair of bonded seekers. Not that anyone besides Starscream had known they were bonded, of course. To everyone else they just seemed awfully in-tune to each other's moods and thought patterns, which was to be expected as they _were_ part of a trine. He wondered what Starscream had done to finally get Megatron angry enough to slag him. Or, perhaps he had been shot down by one of the Autobots. It was a possibility, he supposed, though Starscream had always been the best of the three in the air. Maybe he could get something out of Hook. Starscream had been in the repair bay often enough that the constructicon and the seeker had been slightly closer than polite acquaintances.

Skywarp, uninterested in Thundercracker's more cerebral pursuits, had discovered human music and entertainment in the form of the web and movies and was absorbed in his perusal of the various foreign delights when his long-range scanners blipped, alerting him to the presence of another Cybertronian in their airspace. His long-range scanners reached much further than most; it was a necessity, since he needed to know if there were enemies in the airspace he was warping to. He adjusted his altitude, Thundercracker absently following his lead.

_::Hey TC, heads up on my long-range, bearing west north-west. Who do you think it is? I can read the spark signature but I don't have any file—Autobot or Decepticon—that matches it.::_

_::Hm? Oh, that's odd…I was under the impression that we were the only true flight-capable mechs here. It would appear I was incorrect. Correct course to meet head on, flanking.::_

They fell into position easily, boosting their speed until they fell within easy hailing comm range of the unidentified flyer. Thundercracker cautiously enabled an open hail channel.

/Unidentified flyer, this is Decepticon elite seeker Thundercracker. Please state your designation and affiliation./

There was a tense, lengthy pause in which the approaching flyer dropped speed considerably, and Thundercracker and Skywarp slowed as well. Then a faint crackling noise came over the line, indicating the other was about to speak. It carried on for a few seconds.

/…Thundercracker? Skywarp? Is that…is that really you?/

The voice was a little different, but that didn't stop Skywarp from joining the conversation.

/Screamer? How is that you? You—you're different! Your spark signal has changed. Well, not much, now that I look at it, but enough that it didn't quite match. What's going on? Why do you seem so much smaller than before? I thought you were dead? Megatron said you were gone and he'd melted you down for scrap ages ago! Why can't I feel you over the trine-bond? What—/

/Would you _shut up_ for a moment so I can reply, you idiot!/

Thundercracker and Skywarp grinned. That was the Starscream they knew, alright. Apparently their commander had thwarted death once more. Transforming, Skywarp grabbed Thundercracker and warped them right over to Starscream, who transformed himself and hovered upon their appearance. Their grins faded when they saw not the familiar hulking gray-brown mech but a sleek red, white and blue one with a black helm. The optics were the same shade of red, though, and the expression—a haughty sneer with the barest trace of a smug grin—was the same as expected. Though the precise frequency of Starscream's spark was very slightly altered, they could all feel the barest of connections this close together. Skywarp was the first to break the silence.

"Wow, Starscream…you got hot!" A grin worked its way back as Thundercracker tried to elbow him for his comment.

Starscream snorted, his expression relaxing with a small smile. Of all the things Skywarp could have said…but he wouldn't have it any other way. Apparently the black and purple seeker felt the same, because he was suddenly being crushed in a hug that, before his transplant and subsequent joining of the Autobots, would have had him threatening Skywarp with the dangerous end of his null rays. He went stiff out of reflex—he still didn't get many hugs—then made himself relax, tentatively returning the embrace. Eventually they parted, and Thundercracker shook Starscream's servo offered a tiny twitch of his lips. To Starscream, coming from Thundercracker, that was like a welcome home party.

"It's good to see you both after so long apart…"

"But…?"

"But, you have to understand, things have changed for me, quite drastically." Starscream paused. He didn't want to lose his trine-mates so soon after reuniting with them.

"We have optics too, Screamer," Skywarp interjected, trying to lighten the mood with a bit of humor.

"This is only one of the big changes; I…I've…defected. I'm with the Autobots now." He forgot to cycle momentarily as he waited for a reaction.

"What?"

"I saw the insignia. I…can't speak for Skywarp, but you know the only reason I joined the Decepticons was because of you."

"I know, and I—I've seen the light, I suppose. Megatron is not who he used to be, and Optimus Prime is a very gracious leader."

"You mean a very attractive one!" Skywarp, having recovered from his shock, decided that some long-overdue teasing was in order.

"…Excuse me?"

"I saw the misty look in your optic when you said his name! Someone's having fantasies about tall, blue and handsome!"

"Hmph, well I'd say what's going on is certainly more than an idle fantasy."

"Wha—really? Aww, mental image! I was only kidding! Come on now!"

~Fin~


	5. BONUS CHAPTER

Disclaimer: Own nothing, am sad D: (Don't own the song either)

Author's note: Okay, so you know how in the first chapter Starscream wanted a party, right? And then I kinda never brought it up again? _; Weeelll, BONUS CHAPTER! Lol, I stumbled across a Starscream vid on Youtube with the song "Sexy, naughty, bitchy" by Tata Young, and somehow wanting to do a songfic thing with it turned into the party that happened between chapters one and two. Aaaanyways, it's a little cracktastic, sorry for that. I re-wrote the lyrics a bit, and they're at the end of the chapter should anyone like to read them. Also, the fic would probably be more enjoyable if you'd heard the song, so, here:

http:/ www. youtube. com/ watch?v=2QRDjDRg5eA

Hope you enjoy!

Victory Is So Sweet…For Some

BONUS CHAPTER: Takes place between Chapters One and Two

By Elora Vashara

The twins had gotten Jazz to agree to head up some karaoke for their party, and their announcement started up a train of thought in Starscream that he couldn't bring himself to abandon. Teasing Optimus had been a lot of fun that day in his office, and now he had been handed an opportunity to tease him in front of everyone—with a valid excuse! He couldn't pass this chance up, it was just too good. He just had to find the right song…

After a whole day of searching and not really knowing what he was looking for, he decided a different approach was needed. What were a few adjectives to describe himself? _Sexy_, he decided, _definitely sexy_. But that was too broad a subject for human popular culture, so what else? Well, he was a tease…what word would Skywarp use? _Naughty_, he thought, _I'll try that_. What else…what had Skywarp called him once during one of his moods? Bitchy? That would work. _Sexy, naughty, bitchy…let's see what that gets me._

He was a bit shocked to see a single song pop up in response to his search; its title was the exact words he'd put in. He played the track, head bobbing slightly to the beat as a grin spread over his face. This was the perfect song for what he had planned, it just needed a few adjustments.

A few days later, set up for the party in the rec room was underway and a stage had been set up for those doing karaoke. Jazz had his sound system set up and had a sign up list out and available for mechs to put in their name and song of choice. There were already a number of names on the list, which worked perfectly for Starscream as he entered his own name and song choice then resumed helping set up the extra party lights. He didn't want to start the show or end it—it took a few songs to get the audience warmed up and by the time the last bot had gone up attention had waned somewhat. He wanted all optics on him, but one pair especially.

Starscream had spent his free time rehearsing his revised lyrics for the song and making some slight modifications to his armor. He practiced shifting the appropriate pieces in and out of his armor's subspace and the movements of the routine until he was comfortable. Finally it was time for the party to start, and Starscream made sure every inch of himself was scrubbed and polished to a gleaming finish as he slanted his wings at an appealing angle, the edges appearing razor sharp. With a satisfied nod to his reflection he strutted out the door and down to the rec room, arriving fashionably late.

A bass beat was thrumming but any lyrics were being obscured by the chatter of the mechs already there, most sipping on a cube of high grade. As more arrived after him and time went by, some couples started dancing and the lights began to dim as the party livened up. Starscream had only had a few sips of his own cube of high grade as he sat at a side table, preferring not to be drunk for his performance, though others certainly didn't share the same inhibitions. He felt a pair of optics on him and let the sensation continue before coolly turning to meet his observer's gaze. His ruby optics locked with a familiar pair of cerulean ones and he let his gaze turn smoldering as a slow, sensuous smile spread over his lips. Optimus held the gaze for a moment before he seemed to realize what he was doing and averted his optics quickly. Starscream thought it was a shame the Prime had his battle mask on at the moment, and decided to try and fix it.

He leaned his elbow on the table, rested his chin off-center in his palm and began to stare at Optimus, who was busy looking everywhere but in Starscream's direction. He knew his staring wasn't going unnoticed as Optimus began to look increasingly uncomfortable. Unfortunately it seemed the red and blue Autobot was going to be stubborn and refuse to look his way anytime soon. Walking over to him and asking him to retract it wasn't an option, and neither was yelling something across the space between them. Neither of those methods were very fun. He had to break Optimus' concentration and get him to look over…_Reflex, _he realized as a plan came to him.

Starscream deliberately let the arm supporting his head slip and bang on the table top, knowing that despite the Prime's best efforts he would be highly tuned in to anything happening in this direction. His plan was rewarded when Optimus turned towards him quickly, gaze finding the seeker immediately. Starscream ducked his optics slightly and offered a slightly embarrassed grin, noting Optimus' response in the relaxing of his frame. He turned his expression more to that of one studying something they know is slightly off, his lips pursed and pushed to the side slightly. Optimus continued their silent conversation by widening his optics and lifting his shoulders slightly—clearly a "What?"

Starscream tilted his head and narrowed his optics slightly in scrutiny before relaxing and smiling, forming a mask over his face with his fingers then drawing them back in a short motion. Optimus narrowed his optics and shook his head. Starscream pouted, putting on his most plaintive expression—what Sam had jokingly dubbed his "puppy-dog eyes." Optimus met his expression sternly for a few long moments as they had a stare-down, then crumbled, sighing and retracting his battle mask. He slouched in his chair with a definite sulky pout on his face, lower lip jutting out. Starscream grinned in triumph as blue optics met his again. "_Happy now?_" Optimus mouthed at him, and Starscream nodded, satisfied.

Karaoke was starting, and Ironhide sat down next to Optimus as the quick bass beat of the first song started. He grinned at seeing his friend without his battle mask—it was hard to convince him to not wear it at parties or most of the time in general. He observed his leader's pout, then spotted the smug grin on a nearby Starscream and put two and two together. He nudged Optimus in the side, rousing the mech from his brooding and making him straighten in his seat. Optimus nodded at him.

"Ironhide."

"Optimus. I see he's got you wrapped around his little finger." His assumption was proven correct when his friend's gaze shot over to the seeker involuntarily before he growled and forced himself to look away.

"Does not."

"Does too. Y'know, it's nice to see you without your battle mask on for once…"

"Shut up."

"I'm just sayin'…" He waved a hand dismissively and trailed off as they listened to the first few singers, applauding when each was done. Ironhide started to get bored, and noticed Optimus' optics weren't on the stage—not surprisingly, they were resting on a certain seeker.

"You could do worse, you know."

"Huh?" Optimus jerked out of his reverie and faced his friend once more. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you an' him were to…hook up, I…think he could do some good for you."

"I don't even know how he would feel about…that. I don't know what _I_ think about that. It's just…Starscream? Really? He's just—"

Optimus was cut off by a familiar voice starting a song and his attention and Ironhide's were directed to the stage.

"_I pick all my mods to be a little too sexy,_" From behind the curtain at the edge of the stage peeked a long, scantily plated silver and blue leg that led straight into a similarly clad cherry-red hip, bouncing in time to the beat. "_Just like all my thoughts, they always get a bit naughty._" Half the seeker was now visible and it appeared that the slightly scandalous plating continued over most of him. His hip plating had been modified heavily, longer strips hanging down and rustling with each movement, much like a skirt. He stepped out into the spotlight, his stance radiating confidence and superiority. "_When I'm out with my trine, I always play a bit bitchy—Can't change the way I am, sexy, naughty, bitchy me._"

As Starscream headed into the first verse, Optimus gestured towards him discreetly and mouthed to Ironhide, "—That." His treacherous processor (perhaps brought on by a bit too much high-grade) chimed in helpfully, _And that's everything I want, right there._

The performance continued, Starscream's optics never leaving Optimus as he strutted, danced, and flicked his hips and wings along to the beat and lyrics. The Autobot leader did his best to pay attention to the lyrics, but Starscream seemed to know just what movements were best to draw his attention to various shapely parts of his body—thrusters, wings, Primus, that faux-skirt was really far more alluring than it should have been. As Starscream sang the second verse, something about turning up to classes an hour late, he thought he heard Skyfire mutter something like, "Slagger did that and still got top honors…"

Optimus realized somewhat belatedly that Starscream had a pretty decent singing voice, which, he reminded himself, was the first thing he should've noticed. But, given the display before him, his processor just wandered off into a brief fantasy of the seeker writhing in ecstasy beneath him, crying out his name in the throes of passion. Shaking his head to rid himself of the tantalizing image, he tuned back in to the song just as the refrain was beginning.

Starscream swung his hips side to side lazily as he sang, "_Sexy, sexy, sexy…_" He then planted his pedes slightly further apart than shoulder-width, swung his wings forward as far as they could go and ran his fingertips over the glossy surface, arching his back as he practically moaned, "_Naughty, naughty, naughty…_" And with a sharp about-face he strutted away from the edge of the stage singing, "_Bitchy, bitchy, bitchy...me._" He repeated the sequence, then launched into the bridge and chorus once more, loving that Optimus never took his optics off him. As far as he was concerned at the moment, he and Optimus were the only ones in the room.

By now, Optimus had come to the conclusion that he had to corner the seeker somewhere, sometime, and get him to make noises like that. He wanted to be the one—the only one—to make Starscream gasp and moan and cry out for more. He wanted to take his time and explore every inch of that beautiful body, and he wanted to _feel_ Starscream, to touch the essence of what made the brilliant, sharp-tongued, flighty seeker the way he was. Optimus realized, somewhat distantly, that Starscream was making a point with the song: Make sure you know what you're getting into here. Starscream certainly kept his fair share of secrets, but Optimus had come to know him fairly well, enough that he was more than willing to make the leap. But what if he was wrong? What if Starscream was just being a flirt (well, more than usual, anyways)?

The song drew to a close ("_Can't change…I am…Sexy, naughty, bitchy me!_") and everyone applauded—Starscream even earned a few wolf-whistles as he disappeared behind the curtain. Ironhide chuckled at Optimus' expression, an odd mixture of desire and apprehension, plus a dropped jaw.

"You could just go jump him," he suggested lightly, wondering if Optimus was even paying attention right now.

"Exactly what I'm going to do. Wait, what? Slag no! I couldn't do that now, it would send the wrong message." The red and blue mech scowled, snapping his mask back into place as he realized what kind of expression he must have had on his face, given Ironhide's grin.

"And what kind of message are you tryin' to send him?" Ironhide asked, curious, but feeling he already knew the answer, even if Optimus didn't completely.

"That…" Optimus paused, considering his words as a plan hatched itself. "That he wants me as much as I want him…" A slow grin formed as he developed his idea. Payback for all the teasing the seeker had done thus far, "and a taste of his own medicine."

AN2: Oh Optimus. You see where trying to be cerebral gets you? Ah, well. Hey, if you have a second, review, and here's the lyrics if you want to read through them at all.

**Sexy, Naughty Bitchy** Sung by Tata Young, words modified in this version by Elora Vashara

Chorus:

I pick all my mods to be a little too sexy

Just like all my thoughts they always get a bit naughty

When I'm out with my trine I always play a bit bitchy

Can't change the way I am

Sexy, naughty, bitchy me

I'm the kind of mech that femmes don't like

I'm the kind that mechs fantasize

I'm the kind your carrier and creator were afraid you'd turn out to be like

I may seem unapproachable

But that's only to the mechs who don't have the right approach or mode

that makes a mech like me wanna hook up and roll

Bridge:

People think it's intimidating when a seeker is cool with their sexuality

I am just so true to the stereotype seekers hate staying home being innocent

Chorus:

I pick all my mods to be a little too sexy

Just like all my thoughts they always get a bit naughty

When I'm out with my trine I always play a bit bitchy

Can't change the way I am

Sexy, naughty, bitchy me

My mouth never takes a holiday

I always shock with the things I say

I was always the kid in school who turned up to each class 'bout an hour late

And when it comes to the mechs I'd lay

I'd always pick the ones who won't figure out

That I was still a rebel to the idea of monogamy

Bridge:

People think it's intimidating when a seeker is cool with their sexuality

I am just so true to the stereotype seekers hate staying home being innocent

Chorus:

I pick all my mods to be a little too sexy

Just like all my thoughts they always get a bit naughty

When I'm out with my trine I always play a bit bitchy

Can't change the way I am

Sexy, naughty, bitchy me

Sexy, sexy, sexy…Naughty, naughty, naughty…Bitchy, bitchy, bitchy…Me

Sexy, sexy, sexy…Naughty, naughty, naughty…Bitchy, bitchy, bitchy…Me

Bridge:

People think it's intimidating when a seeker is cool with their sexuality

I am just so true to the stereotype seekers hate staying home being innocent

Chorus:

I pick all my mods to be a little too sexy

Just like all my thoughts they always get a bit naughty

When I'm out with my trine I always play a bit bitchy

Can't change the way I am

Sexy, naughty, bitchy me

I like all my plates to be a little too skinny

Unlike all of my guys, I like them tall with e

I love all of my nights to end a little bit nasty

Can't change the way I am

Sexy, naughty, bitchy me

I pick…My mods…to be...sexy

Just like…my thoughts…a bit…naughty

When I'm…out with…my trine…bitchy

Can't change…I am…

Sexy, naughty, bitchy me


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Don't own, no monies here. Also, there would be a lot more smexiness going on if I did own them… Just saying!

Author's note: Hello everyone! Sorry for the huge wait on this chapter. It was a combo of my muse going AWOL and my internet dying, so I was left with…nothing, really. I'm on wireless internet at the library right now so I can post this . I wrote the "flashback-esque" sequence out when I was trying to get rid of my writer's block for this story, and then I just made the executive (executive of what? Myself?) decision that it would be included in the real chapter five. Or, actually, chapter six, if you stick the bonus chapter in place of the current chapter two and rearrange the numbers. Ah, okay, it's chapter six. I'll just go with that so I don't screw the future numbers up. Aaaanyways, enjoy, and review if you have a minute/second/whatever! (P.S. –Virtual chocolate chip scones to everyone who reviews!) (P.P.S.—I really love Jazz's accent. No sarcasm there, either! It's fun to type…)

Victory Is So Sweet…For Some

Part the Sixth

By Elora Vashara

Optimus had chosen a fairly remote beach on the California coast for his and Starscream's date, and he had made a few special trips out to neaten things up and make sure he had everything they'd need stashed away out of sight. He planned to arrive a little early so he could set things up and make sure the mood was right. Honestly, he couldn't really remember the last time he'd been on an actual date, seeing as the war had taken precedence for so many vorns. It was still going, of course, but Megatron had been strangely absent for the past few Earth years, leaving the growing number of Autobots to settle in relative peace. The last news they'd had of Megatron had been when Starscream had arrived, and once the seeker had been stabilized and repaired to a decent level of functionality he'd reluctantly divulged what he knew about the Decepticon's state of affairs in bits and pieces.

The semi truck recalled how stubborn and sullen the jet had been, though honestly he couldn't blame him. He'd been through a lot, not only the vorns spent under Megatron's violent control, but the sudden and unwanted transference to the body he'd designed to be a weapon, not to mention having to resort to submitting himself to the Autobots in order to save his own life. The only Autobots on Earth at the time had been those present for the battle with the Fallen, and it had been a somewhat even divide between those who accepted Starscream's presence and those who resented it. Jazz had, unsurprisingly, been unafraid to take the seeker's side and had done his best to keep tempers (both Starscream's and the other soldiers') cool whenever one encountered the other.

Optimus recalled how he'd been somewhat envious of the time the silver saboteur had been spending with Starscream until he remembered that Jazz was sweet on Prowl, who arrived about a month after Starscream. The tactician had accepted the jet's presence fairly well, once everything had been explained to him. He recalled the short period after Prowl's arrival, when Jazz had waited anxiously for some sort of special greeting from the—newly—black and white officer, not wanting to pressure him into anything. Optimus had observed somewhat anxiously as the days crept by and the spy's spark seemed to dull with the lack of response—even Starscream, who had become somewhat fond of the mech after prolonged exposure to his bouncy nature, noticed the drop in his mood and had offered an awkward pat on the shoulder.

_Three months after Starscream's arrival, two days after Prowl's arrival…_

Jazz and Starscream sat in silence at a corner table in the rec room, sipping their respective cubes of energon. Optimus reclined on the custom couch several of the more crafty mechs had put together, letting his processors wander where they would as he took a rare break. Soft, carefully measured footsteps alerted them to Prowl's approach, and as the Praxian stepped in Starscream stood and patted the slumping saboteur's shoulder lightly before he left. Optimus couldn't help glancing over and noticing the swing of the seeker's cherry hips as he left, then promptly caught his thoughts and turned away, mentally berating himself for thinking such things. The next thing he knew, Jazz had shot upright and stood tensely, frustration apparent in his stance as he glared down at the mildly startled and now seated Second. Optimus mentally prepared himself to intervene if things got out of hand.

"What's the matter, Jazz?" Prowl asked, his brows furrowed in confusion.

"What's the matter?" Jazz yelled, frustration turning to barely controlled rage. "I'll tell you what the slaggin' matter is! You haven't said more'n three words ta me since you got here, and Ah've been waitin' for ya ta do somethin', _anythin'_ in response ta what Ah told ya back on Cybertron! Ya haven' said ah thin' abou' it ta me. Is it…" he faltered, the anger leaving him as he slumped once more, "D'ya, d'ya not…wan' me? Is tha' it? …Please, say somethin' Prowler, please."

The Praxian's doorwings dropped as he realized that his own uncertainty of the situation had led the saboteur to presume that he held no feelings for him. It was quite the contrary, in fact, but Prowl honestly hadn't been sure if Jazz's extremely brief confession of feelings before his departure had been genuine, or if it had been nerves. He supposed his processors had simply had too much time to dwell on it, and he'd wandered away from the basic truth he'd heard in Jazz's words that day. As such, he'd decided to let the silver mech make the first move once he'd arrived, but apparently that had been a bad miscalculation as the saboteur had taken the same course of action. Cringing slightly at the small disaster of his calculations, he stood slowly so as not to set off the slightly trembling mech before him.

"Jazz," he began softly, a small smile twitching at the corner of his mouth, "Jazz, I was waiting for _you_ to make the first move." He waited, head tilted slightly as he observed the change in expressions. Jazz went from anticipating rejection to dumbfounded disbelief in a split second, his visor retracting at Prowl's words so the tactician could see the honest apprehension, longing, and fading hurt practically radiating from them. "Jazz," he murmured, expression softening as he slowly pulled the silver mech into an embrace.

"Y-you mean…? You do?" Jazz stammered as he tilted his head back slightly to keep optic contact with the slightly taller of the two. At a nod from Prowl, a grin split his face and he reached up to pull the tactician down for a long, slow kiss that began to grow more and more heated as fingers wandered over sensitive plating, and Jazz was slowly backed up against the table as both drew muffled moans and mewls from each other. They broke with a gasp and Prowl began tenderly mouthing Jazz's neck as he reached down to lift him up on the table. Optimus decided it was time to interrupt before his top officers began interfacing right there in front of him.

"Ahem," he rumbled, and they jumped apart somewhat guiltily, though neither seemed capable of stifling grins. "Congratulations, but would you mind taking it to a private room now?" He chuckled at the picture they presented, both still panting slightly, cooling fans on and bodies making contact in any way they could without looking too scandalous since his interruption.

Jazz threw a lazy salute to him, "Ah'll get right on tha', OP." Prowl, for his part, managed to sober his expression and gave a proper salute, a formal apology only just forming when Jazz grabbed his arm and practically hauled him out of the room as the tactician gave a rather undignified squawk at his sudden loss of balance.

Optimus just grinned and retrieved a cube of energon for himself, picking up a random datapad to peruse from a nearby table. He was left in blissful silence for a breem or so until Starscream wandered back in, sitting down across from him a bit warily. He glanced up and acknowledged the seeker with a friendly nod before returning to his reading. After a long moment, Starscream spoke up.

"So, everything's okay between them, then? Jazz was awfully upset earlier."

Setting the datapad down, Optimus met the seeker's crimson gaze steadily. "Yes, it was apparently just a misunderstanding. They were both waiting for the other to make a move."

Starscream hummed in response and averted his gaze to the tabletop, fiddling with his fingers, wings flicking at small disturbances in the air occasionally. After letting the quiet stretch on for a bit, a question occurred to Optimus, and he had to ask.

"Starscream?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you…I mean, Jazz has been the closest to you since you arrived, and I had wondered if, well…" He hesitated, not wanting to offend the flighty seeker. Thankfully, Starscream seemed to get his drift.

"Oh, no. He's not really my type." Given the short response, Optimus surmised the jet wasn't in the mood to talk. The answer both relieved him and piqued his curiosity, and he found himself asking another question.

"If he's not your type, then what is?" Crimson optics widened slightly in surprise at the query, and the red-striped wings twitched upward slightly.

"And what do you care?" Starscream arched a brow as he leaned back, gingerly adjusting his wings against the chair back.

"Ah," Optimus fumbled slightly, "I just… I'm curious, is all. I don't know much about you, personally, and I do try to get to know those I share a base with, at least a little bit."

"And do you make a habit of asking all your men what kind of mech they prefer, or am I the exception?" He fought back a grin—The Autobot leader could be somewhat endearing, he supposed, but mostly it was fun to watch him squirm.

"No!" Optimus protested, "Your answer made me curious is all. If I went too far, I apologize. I won't bring it up again." Feeling that the conversation had perhaps broken the ice, but not much else, he began stand, intending to leave before he dug himself into a deeper hole, as the humans put it. A blue hand on his forearm stilled him, however, and Starscream looked about as surprised as he felt.

"Ah," the seeker began, feeling completely out of his depth, "you don't, uh, have to leave. If you don't want to, that is. I just mean that I'm not offended, is all." He retracted his hand as Optimus slowly sat back down, his processors lingering on the feel of the Prime's warm plating beneath his fingers. Shoving such distracting thoughts out of his head, he adjusted his chair slightly to stall for time.

"Well," Optimus began, unsure, "If you don't mind answering, then, I'm still curious: What's your type?"

"I don't really know," Starscream answered frankly, "Before I joined the Decepticons, I was a busy student at the Iacon Academy, and before I was a student there, I was bonding to and training with my trine mates. Once I joined the war, I was so busy climbing the ranks that I didn't have much time to think about who I was attracted to. And I never really attracted anyone anyways, that I can remember."

"Oh." Optimus was a bit surprised, and having no real reply, fell silent. "But," he said after a moment, "you're attractive now, though." It was an awkward statement, and both ended up in a staring contest with the table as they tried to think of something else to say. Thankfully, it seemed the prideful seeker had not taken his intended compliment the wrong way. Or, if he had, he was just hiding it remarkably well.

"Ah, what about you?" Starscream asked eventually, startling Optimus.

"What about me?" The truck stalled, his overworked processor trying to connect the dots and make sense of the question.

"I mean, what's your type?" Starscream was starting to regret this conversation. These Autobots made it nearly impossible to back out of a conversation with their Primus-damned niceness—why hadn't he just let Optimus leave?—and until now he hadn't known a conversation could possibly be this awkward and stilted. The mere fact that he felt awkward in the conversation was enough to annoy him. It made him feel like he was at a disadvantage, not knowing where the boundaries of propriety might fall, so he could push them all he wanted.

"Err…" The word _seekers_ came to mind immediately, but he pushed the thought away, not wanting to offend his present company (that did seem to be a rather constant concern, didn't it? Maybe he should try to get Starscream to be more friendly). "Well, um, to be uh, to be honest, I…hadn't really thought about it?" He offered, knowing his reply had been far from convincing. He really needed to work on his lying skills—perhaps he should take lessons from Starscream? He was a self reputed master of deception, after all.

"Don't try to lie to a Decepticon, Prime. Eh, I mean _former_ Decepticon," he winced and corrected himself. "What is it you don't want to tell me? I was honest with you." For once. And why was he still having this conversation? Better question: Why was the rec room so empty today? Mechs usually came in and out with some regularity.

"Ah, right," Optimus chuckled nervously, suddenly thankful when Ironhide walked in. "I've got to get back to work," he claimed, practically fleeing the room for the safety of his office, where he couldn't mess things up with the seeker any more than he already had.

"That's not a fragging answer, Prime!" Starscream's voice rang down the hall after him, and when Ironhide bristled and prepared to berate the seeker for his complete lack of respect for the Prime, the shout was followed with a growled, "And you'd best keep it shut, tin can."

Forgetting the insult to his friend in favor of defending himself, Ironhide sneered at the former Decepticon, "Or what, huh, punk? What're you gonna do?"

Starscream just flashed a truly terrifying grin, stalked right up to the black mech so that their chests were nearly touching and slightly off center, and ducked his head in close to Ironhide's audio. "Or," he murmured sweetly, "I'll tell Ratchet you've been harassing me." He held his position as the warrior stiffened. Like dogs having a stare down, they remained that way for a few long moments until Ironhide finally relented.

"Fine," he muttered, and marched off sullenly to throw himself on the couch since his break had begun. The Autobot medic had taken the seeker under his figurative wing, and threatened everyone with sudden uncomfortable checkups should they bother Starscream. The first time the minor twins had tried something…well, the screams coming from the med bay weren't ones of delight, that was for sure.

Starscream just grinned in triumph and flicked his wings up high before strutting out of the room. He would give Optimus some time to collect himself, but after that the Prime was his.

_Back to the present day…_

Optimus was pulled out of his reverie by his comm flashing a medical emergency line from Ratchet. Spark leaping in alarm, he quickly responded, opening a channel.

/Ratchet, what's going on, is it Starscream?/

/Yes, the slagger's gone and snuck off base under all our olfactory sensors. If Red Alert were here this wouldn't have happened…/

/What? He's gone? How long, and why?/ Optimus was already running over the uneven, sandy terrain towards the nearest road so he could drive back to base.

/He's been gone several hours at least, and with those engines of his he could be halfway around the globe by now. And he didn't leave a note or anything to indicate where he was going. Inconsiderate glitch, when he gets back I'll weld him to the berth and have those thrusters off so fast…/

/I'll be back to the base as soon as I can./ Optimus finally reached the cracked, rural road and leapt, wheels skidding on the dusty pavement as he finished transforming. Luckily, there were no humans in the area, one of the reasons he'd chosen this spot in the first place. /In the mean time, get Jazz scanning on the long range for him and try hailing him over the comms./

/Will do, Prime. Ratchet out./

Optimus closed the line and poured on the speed, hoping Starscream was alright, wherever he was.

The three seekers had settled themselves far down in the southern tip of Nevada, basking in the warm, late-afternoon sunshine and sipping the energon cubes they all made a habit of carrying with them. Naturally, Skywarp and Thundercracker had a lot of questions and Starscream had obliged, getting them up to speed on how things had changed. Of course, he left out the juicier bits, though Skywarp begged for him to spill all the details. The conversation fell into a relaxed lull, all three just glad to be back together, letting their trine bond readjust in peace.

"…Thundercracker, Skywarp?"

"Hmmm?"

"It's good to see you again. And…and I'm…sorry. Sorry for the way I treated you, sorry for putting you through so much slag over the vorns—I'm sorry. I hope you can forgive me."

"Oh, Screamer," Skywarp grinned, "you may be a stubborn aft, but that doesn't mean I love ya any less. Apology accepted."

Starscream grinned and raised a brow. "Thank you. And that was astoundingly mature of you, you know. Very out of character."

"Shut up," Skywarp chuckled, "just chalk it up to my being glad to see you after being told you were slag."

"Thundercracker?" Starscream had been fairly sure Skywarp would forgive him—the youngest of the three had trouble holding grudges. However, Thundercracker was another story. He'd put the blue seeker through so much slag… Putting blame on him for his own mistakes, giving him some of the most thankless tasks, refusing to budge on his own viewpoints even when the stoic mech had been right, then punishing him for thinking differently. Despite that, the oldest seeker had been patient with him, had taken the blame without complaint, had remained loyal… If anyone had a right to hold a grudge against him, it was Thundercracker. He bit his lip unconsciously as he waited for a response.

Thundercracker remained silent, studying Starscream while mulling over the apology and everything he'd learned about the changed Starscream. The mech sitting before him now was the Starscream he had been introduced to all those vorns ago, when the three had first formed their trine-bond. Before they'd joined the Decepticons, before Starscream had become warped by Megatron, desperately modifying his own frame to protect against the ferocity of his leader's beatings and shutting himself off, changing his ideals and outlook to avoid being hurt emotionally. Starscream was genuinely sorry, and he had certainly changed during his time with the Autobots.

"I…"

Starscream leaned forward, his tanks churning with anticipation.

"I forgive you." Thundercracker offered a smile, and was rewarded with an enthusiastic hug; he flailed for a moment, trying to keep his balance then flopped back into the sand, the two landing in a sudden tangle of legs, arms and wings. All was quiet for a moment before Skywarp leapt on top of them, crying "Seeker pile!" and a good-natured scuffle ensued, the three laughing until they could hardly laugh any more, eventually rolling to a stop with Starscream pinned beneath Skywarp who was being tickled mercilessly by Thundercracker, perched unsteadily on top of the other two.

At that moment, Starscream's comm line was opened, the invasion startling him. He'd blocked his comms earlier, not wanting to be disturbed, so Jazz must have finally hacked in to open a channel. Unfortunately, the hacked channel meant that everybody on both ends could hear what was going on at any given moment once the connection was established, and Skywarp chose that moment to cry out, "No, no, please stop! I'll do anything, just stop! I'm begging you!" and with a particularly awkward swing of his limbs, the pile tipped over with a resounding crash and several startled yelps from all three seekers.

"Starscream? Starscream! What's going on?" Optimus' worried voice rang over the line, causing Skywarp and Thundercracker to cease their laughter and glance over at Starscream, who was still half-pinned underneath Skywarp.

"I'm—would you—gerroff already, would you? I'm fine, Op—Agh! Watch where you're putting your thrusters, 'Warp, _that was my wing!_" Starscream huffed and finally heaved himself upright, frowning and rubbing a servo over his newly sore left wing. He shot a glare at Skywarp who whispered a completely unapologetic, "Sorry!"

"Ahem," he began again, trying to preserve what little dignity he had left. He was pretty sure he could hear some chuckling on the other end. "As I was trying to say, I'm fine, Optimus, there's no need to worry." He paused at hearing some loud but indistinct grumbling from Ratchet. "And I'm sorry for sneaking out, Ratchet, but you do realize I'm recovered, right? I was going insane, not being able to fly for that long. And I haven't been doing anything particularly taxing, and I brought along extra energon just in case…"

Skywarp snickered, "What is he, your carrier?"

"Starscream, who else is there with you?" Optimus asked, feeling more than a little out of the loop. He'd practically crashed into the command center and then ordered Jazz to force a channel open, worried silly over his seeker's safety, only to find that Starscream wasn't injured (well, except for his wing, now) and was in the company of a couple other mechs. He was completely bewildered.

This gave Starscream some pause, and he glanced at his trine mates questioningly. They nodded in response to the silent question.

"My trine mates, Skywarp and Thundercracker. We ran into each other when I was on my way back, and we've been catching up. I'm sorry if I worried you, Optimus, I really didn't mean to." He frowned then, mumbling "Primus, how many apologies have I handed out today? They're not free, you know."

He obviously hadn't mumbled quietly enough, as he heard Optimus chuckle at his comment. A soft smile appeared on his face at the sound, though, as a somewhat alarmingly strong wave of delicious warmth wrapped around his spark.

"No need to apologize, Star, I'm just glad you're alright. But would you mind heading back to base now? And…I hate to ask this now, but what about your trine mates?" From what Optimus knew of Skywarp and Thundercracker, they were loyal Decepticons, but if they were at peace with Starscream being an Autobot, perhaps they weren't as loyal to Megatron as he'd imagined?

Starscream sighed heavily (just one more bad habit he'd picked up from the humans) and turned to his fellow seekers. "Well? Not to put you on the spot or anything, but…" Skywarp and Thundercracker had a short, silent debate while everyone else waited in curious silence. They turned and nodded at the same time, but it was Thundercracker who spoke up.

"Where you go, we will follow. And since you've allied yourself with the Autobots, we will as well." Starscream grinned broadly in thanks, briefly wondering how the two would get along with the twins, and feeling very grateful for his trine's loyalty. He would do his best to not frag it up this time.

"Well, you heard the mech," he spoke, "you have two new seekers on base. We'll be back soon. ETA fifteen minutes."

"Alright, be careful, Optimus out."

"Starscream out." Starscream waited for the line to go dead, frowning when it didn't. "Ah, Optimus, dear?" Someone—it sounded like Sam and possibly Bumblebee—snickered on Optimus' end.

"Yes, Starscream?"

"I can't shut down a hacked line from my end. You have to do that."

"Oh, right! Sorry. Here…" The line fell dead, and Starscream unblocked his regular comms before all three took off in smooth formation, falling into their familiar pattern. All was silent but for their engines roaring and the whine of the wind as they sliced through the upper atmosphere.

~Fin~


End file.
